


Day Eighteen

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: 30+ Days of TFW Imagines [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cursed Sam, F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, Reader-Insert, puppy!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5337815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Imagine Sam getting cursed by a witch and the spell makes him think he's a puppy + Imagine Sam giving you puppy eyes because he wants you to stop what you're doing and cuddle with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Eighteen

You hear the door of the Bunker slam and Dean call your name.

"In the kitchen!" you call, rinsing your coffee mug and putting it in the sink.

You hear the thuds of someone running through the Bunker and look up, confused. Sam bounds into the kitchen, eyes bright.

"Y/N!" he cries, throwing his arms around you. He immediately begins licking your cheek.

"Shit, no, Sam come-" Dean appears in the doorway. "No, Sam! Stop that!"

He pulls Sam off you, still scolding. You stare as Sam wilts, head lowered and lower lip sticking out.

"Go to your room," Dean orders.

Sam slinks from the room and Dean sighs, leaning against the table. He rubs a hand over his face.

"What the  _hell_  was  _that_?" you ask, trying to keep from yelling. "Dean, what's wrong with Sam?"

"The witch hit him with some spell. It'll wear off in a few days, but until then, he's stuck in the mindset of a puppy."

"A puppy?" that does explain the licking. "A  _puppy_?"

Dean sighs again. "Yes. A puppy. He was a nightmare to deal with the whole drive home. I wish you'd been there. It would've made life a lot easier. How are you doing, by the way?"

Sam ordered you off this hunt because you got scraped up by a ghost on the last one. It's been pretty lonely, all by yourself in the Bunker, but you got a lot of reading done. "Better. Puppy Sam probably isn't going to help a lot."

"Yeah, he's a little excited."

"I noticed. What are we going to do with him?"

"He's going to want to sleep in your room, but I was thinking we could lock him in his room tonight- the puppy mindset means he can't open doors. With the soundproofing, he won't be able to keep us up whining."

You nod. It'll be the first time you've slept alone in over a year and you can't help thinking it's going to be just as hard on you as it will be on Sam.

X X X X X X

Dinner is quite the affair. Dean makes swiss chicken and mashed potatoes. Sam isn't capable of eating at the table, so Dean cuts the chicken into small bites and puts the plate of food on the floor by your table. Sam doesn't make nearly as much of a mess as expected, though he does get mashed potatoes in his hair and all over his face.

After dinner, Dean holds Sam still while you wipe his face clean. He whines and complains the whole time, but you succeed in getting the majority of the food off.

Dean lets Sam go and the big man springs away, growling and shaking his head. His floppy hair flies everywhere. You chuckle and head to your room to prep for bed. You're halfway down the hall before you realize Sam is following you.

"No, Sam," you say firmly, turning to look at him. "Go to your room. I'll come see you in a minute."

He whines softly, eyes big and pleading.

"No," you repeat. "I mean it, Sam."

Sam huffs and heads to his room. You still make sure to shut your door behind you. You quickly change into your pajamas and then head down to Sam's room.

He's sitting on the bed look absolutely miserable. The sight breaks your heart.

"Sammy," you sigh. You kneel in front of him and lay your hands on your boyfriend's knees. "Sam, darling, I'm not mad at you."

He lights up and throws himself into your arms, giving your cheek a wet lick. You make a face, but hug him back.

"Bed time," you tell him. "Come on, into bed you go." With great effort, you push him up onto the bed. Once he's settled, you pull the blankets up and tuck them under his chin. He makes a confused sound. "Not tonight. Stay, Sam."

With that you leave, locking the door behind you. Sam starts whining immediately, but you ignore it. Even when he calls your name.

You can't hear him from your room, thank goodness. You wouldn't be able to sleep if you could. You're not sure if you'll be able to sleep anyways.

X X X X X X

You don't sleep much.

In the morning you let Sam out of his room. He glares and pouts, and pretends he's ignoring you, but you know he's not. He spends the whole day not so discretely following you around the Bunker. By lunch, discrete has gone out the window. Sam is openly tailing you. He sits by your chair in the kitchen and in the library. He stands guard while you spend some time in the shooting range. He even curls up on the couch with his head in your lap while you watch  _Psych_  after dinner. On the one hand, it's actually kind of adorable. On the other hand, it's killing you. Because no matter how much he looks like Sam, inside isn't Sam. Not your Sam, at least.

When it's bed time, you can't bear the thought of locking Sam in his room and sleeping alone. Dean is against it, but he doesn't stop you. When you crawl into bed beside Sam and lay on your stomach like you usually do, the big man immediately twists around to lay his head on your back.

"Sam, what are you doing?" you asks, twisting a little to look at him.

He only nuzzles your spine.

X X X X X X

Despite the strange position, you don't have any trouble sleeping. You wake before Sam, feeling much better than you did yesterday. Sighing, you realize you're stuck in bed until Sam chooses to move.

You still can't figure out why he's sleeping the way he is. It can't be comfortable, what with your back moving with every breath. Curious, you decide to see what happens if you hold your breath.

Apparently Sam is awake.

He immediately begins panicking. There really isn't another word for it. He whines, sitting up, and paws desperately at your side. You stop holding your breath and he calms down.

Taking advantage of the fact that Sam's off your back, you roll over to look up at him. Realization dawns. He's using the strange sleeping position to assure himself that you're okay during the night.

"You're so sweet," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. Dean makes fun of him for it, but you like it long.

X X X X X X

The day passes much like the one before, with Sam not so subtly following you everywhere. Dean really isn't much help, either. In fact, he encourages the behavior. At least it means Sam can't cause trouble. That doesn't mean he's not a pain in the ass.

"No, Sam," you say for the hundredth time as he butts his head up against your knee. He does it again. "Sam, I'm trying to read."

He whines and pulls himself up onto the couch. He begins attempting to push his way under your arm and into your lap.

'"Sam, stop it," you order, using one hand to gently push him away.

In response, Sam flops down on the couch beside you and stares. You do your best to focus on your book, but that's difficult when your boyfriend turned puppy is staring at you. You glance over at him.

Big mistake.

His eyes are big, his lower lip trembling a little. He's giving the puppy eyes his everything and it works. You melt.

"Fine, come here," you sigh.

You lift an arm and he happily cuddles up against your side, head in your lap. You find yourself petting his hair while you read.

X X X X X X

Three days later, you wake up to a confused Sam. He's sitting on the edge of his bed with a puzzled look on his face.

"Sam?" you ask, not daring to hope.

He turns to you. "Why was I sleeping with my head on your back?"

Relief and joy flood through you and you practically throw yourself at Sam. You plant a firm kiss on his lips, one he happily returns.

"While I appreciate the enthusiasm, that doesn't really answer my question," he says when you pull back.

"How much of the last week do you remember?" you inquire, pulling Sam down onto the bed so you can cuddle properly for the first time in what feels like forever.

"I remember hunter a witch with Dean, but according to my phone, that was a week ago. What... oh. The witch we were hunting got me with a spell, didn't she?"

"Yep. You've just spent a whole week thinking you were a puppy."

"Dean's never going to let me live that down."

"Yeah, probably not."

"Yay." he nuzzles into your hair. "Please don't tell me you're not going to let it go, either."

"You were a pain in my ass all week, so the answer to that is going to be no."

Sam sighs and you laugh.


End file.
